So when Simon was on holiday he bought himself a set of three little pictures depicting famous things in Paris in black-and-white and red. Two of the three are quite nice (although Simon, I've just gone and had a nosy at them and I've decided the Arc de Triomphe one is actually the worst.) but we're in agreement that the third one looks like a cheap postcard:
Eagle-eyed viewers will note that it's hanging on the wall, rather than under Simon's bed where it belongs. It appeared there in the hall in the dead of night. Suspicious, eh? The following morning, while Simon was still snoring, I decided to make a political statement of retaliation to voice my calm and democratic dissent. I would stick up a picture of my own, and house-proud Simon would just not be able to cope with the combination of a dog-eared postcard, scruffy blue-tack AND dead movie stars! He'd be sure to take down the Eiffel Tower before you could say "Yes Ziz, you are right." Foolproof plan, I thought, as I selected a suitable image...
"Oh" said Simon, emerging from his room several hours later. "Oh. That looks quite good like that, actually. I like it."